Two Weeks Later

"Where's your brother?" Piper asked Chris as he walked into the conservatory shovelling the cereal from his bowl to his mouth, almost inhaling thecontents before he sat down in one of the white wicker chairs.

"Same place he's been for the last two weeks." he answered through a mouthful, pointing upwards towards Wyatt's room with the spoon. Frowning Piper sook her head, biting her tongue instead of snapping at him for talking with his mouth open, instead she went back to watering the plants around her, setting the aluminium watering can down just in front of her before resting her hands on the table in front of her.

"Have you heard or spoken to Bianca lately?" she asked softly, almost certain that her eldest son would be able to hear her.

"Nope, not since last week when she asked me not to go over there anymore. Just like she did with dad, and I'm sure just like she'd do with you and aunt Pheebs and Paige."

Piper nodded and retrieved the can, slowly tipping a small amount of the contents onto the ficus in front of her. Running her fingers through the leaves before glancing up at the ceiling. Sighing lightly as she wondered what Wyatt was up to, and if her son was ever going to come out of his room.

Wyatt rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling as he crumpled up another piece of paper and tossed it into the corner. Rolling his eyes he stretched his arms back over the edge of the bed and let them fall down. Wincing as he felt the burn after a few seconds. Pulling them back up onto his chest he looked behind him at the mound of paper balls. Shaking his head he kicked one leg out and sat up, pulling the notepad and pen over to him. Clasping the pen between his teeth he stared down at the blank white page in his lap. Biting the inside of his cheek he again hunched over and began to furiously scribble away as he had before. Occasionally positioning the pen against his bottom lip as he read back what he had written. Carefully tearing the page off and placing it face down on his pillow he continued to write on the next page. Stopping again as he read back, sighing lightly he rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes and touched the pen back to the page. Finishing it off, he tore the page off and laid it on top of the other one picking both up and folding it in thirds. Looking around he fell backwards, half hanging off the bed as he clutched the pages to his chest. Closing his eyes he turned his head to the left as he orbed the pages away. Hearing someone rap lightly on his door he rolled his eyes as he opened them.

"There's no one here. And don't come back later." he said politely.

"Wyatt?" Piper called softly. "Can I come in?"

"Your going to anyway." he said softly to himself as he clambered off the bed and over to the door. "How can I help you mommy?" he asked imperviously as he swung the door towards him.

"Funny that was going to be my question." she said amusedly. "Are you going to come downstairs today?"

"Wasn't planning on." he said sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at his mother as she lent against the door jam watching him.

"You can't stay up here Wyatt." she pointed out. "It's not healthy."

Shrugging he looked down at his hands, rubbing his thumb in a small circle over his palm. "Why do you want me to come downstairs? So I can remind everyone just how much of an idiot I am?"

"No. I want you to come downstairs because I don't like you sitting up here all alone all the time. You need to get out there and start living again."

Wyatt's head shot up and he looked at his mother as if she'd suggested something horrendously unthinkable. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes he looked away from her, sighing heavily.

"Wyatt?"

"No, just leave me be."

Shaking her head sadly Piper watched as her son swung himself around, staring half-heartedly out the window as he continued to rub the heel of his hand. Waiting for the lock to click in to place as his mother closed the door after her. Hearing her soft footsteps on the stairs he casually turned his head to the side, eying the slightly ajar door with disdain as he flicked his wrist and slammed the door closed as he let himself fall back on the bed.

"Stop acting as if you own me." Bianca yelled as she pulled her arm out of his loose grasp, storming towards the front door. "I'm not some piece of property that you, ow, Wyatt let go of me."

Wyatt ignored her and kept a firm grip on her upper arm, pulling her back towards him. "Your not just going to leave like this."

"You're hurting me."

"You're killing me." he retorted steadily.

"Let go of me." Bianca seethed through clenched teeth, staring into Wyatt's calm, dark blue eyes as he shook his head. "Let go of me."

Releasing his hold on her arm he watched as she wrenched open the door and slammed it forcefully behind her. Violently he pushed the hair off of his face before kicking the door in front of him. Furiously he turned on his heels throwing his hands in the air, not even batting an eyelid as several photo frames flew into the wall, the glass breaking and spreading on the floor. Letting out a low growl he stared wildly around the room, it's emptiness starting to consume him. His eyes fell on the pile of course books, rolling his eyes he orbed to the club his mother owned. Silently glad it wasn't a business night. Slumping down at the corner of the bar he let his hands slid forward, feeling his way to the cold metal pole that stuck up erroneously over the bench top. Lifting his head he rested it absentmindedly on the wood finished counter, the chair swivelling as he moved his hips comfortingly rocking himself. Flicking his wrist music began to play from the small stereo behind the bar. Looking around he double checked that the coast was clear, usually he could feel if there was anyone to be concerned about, but he knew with his emotions in disarray he wouldn't be able to concentrate enough to sense anyone to be concerned about. Closing his eyes he held both hands out in front of him, palms facing the ceiling. Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes, watching as small bluish orbs started to raise, moving his hands fluidly to manipulate them into flowing images. Feeling the tension fade he pushed the smile rising away. Concentrating on building the image in his minds eye. After a few moments, he stopped ensnared by the representation he had created.

"That's beautiful." a soft voice said from behind him. Without acknowledging her presence he continued to watch as the image faded, evaporating before them. "Would you share that with a special girl?"

Wyatt's lip curled slightly into a less then impressed scowl. "When I find her." he said harshly. Listening to Bianca as she inhaled sharply, moaning softly in anguish.

"I hate you." she said softly as she took another deep breath, trying to calm herself and steady her nerves. "Just when I think that we can make it work, you do this and I hate you all over again."

"I love you." he announced louder than he had intended as he turned and stared at her, pained at her suggestion that she hated him. His eyes flashing wildly, yet calmly as he looked into her soft, hurt brown ones.

"You're not supposed to scare me." she said softly wiping at the tears briming in her eyes as he came closer, moving slowly so as not to startle her.

"I don't mean to scare you. I don't like doing it, but sometimes I," pausing he looked away from her, jumping slightly as he soft hand reached up to his cheek, softly stroking it with her thumb as her other hand guided his face back to hers.

"I know." she said just above a whisper. "I know, but,"

Wyatt stooped down, softly kissing her lips, "Ssh." he hushed pulling her closer to him. All deep seated doubt he had diminishing as her hands travelled up his back and across his shoulders. The sense of familiarity comforting him, as it was her. One hand wrapped firmly around her waist, as the other resting comfortably between her shoulder blades before curling his forefinger and softly placing it below her chin. Resting his forehead on hers, he tilted her head upwards as she went to look down like she always did. Gently resting a small kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Do you want to go home?" she asked softly. Wyatt closing his eyes and shaking his head as the old love song "A Whiter Shade of Pale" softly coursed it's ways from the stereo towards them. Taking her hand in his, his hand both tightened and loosened around her waist, pulling her closer again. Slowly moving in time to the music, the last ounce of doubt washed away as she rested her head against his chest. He could feel her eyes fluttering closed against the thin material of his shirt, one of her small delicate hand making it's way to his chest, coming to rest just to the left of his heart. After a few minutes the song ended, classic rock softly emanating from the speakers, although they did not really hear, Bianca's ear was trained on Wyatt's heartbeat as she so often practiced late into the night, Wyatt concentrating on her soft breaths. Feeling her chest rise and fall, the soft hot breath escaping her lips, blowing softly through the fibres of his shirt. Barely even moving they swayed mellifluously without speaking a word.

Breathing each other in, taking comfort in what they shared. As if as one, they looked at each other, smiling knowingly as Wyatt waved his hand. Replacing everything the way it was, leaving no sign for his mother that he or anyone else had been there. Taking her hand in his he orbed them back to the small one bedroom apartment they shared. Staring down at Bianca he hesitantly let go of her, raising the cover on the old record player, before lowering the needle onto the record. After a few seconds of crackling static he looked up at her as the gentle guitar began to play, lifting her hands into his as the soft, distinctly male, yet sweet voice delicately crooned the bittersweet lyrics. Brushing his hand across her cheek, he moved his head to one side, staring at her for a moment as the moonlight bathed her skin, radiating her innocence most thought long bereft, yet showed in her eyes almost constantly if they really looked.

"Wyatt." she called softly, smiling apologetically as his eyes snapped back to reality. Stepping into her he kissed her again, softly and forcefully at the same time.

Groaning lightly Bianca's eyes slowly opened her eyes, not wanting to stop reliving that dream. She rolled over and attempted to snuggle back into the pillow, whimpering louder as the radio host announced the time jovially. Staring at the bright red numbers she watched as they changed, listening to the songs and the so called ad-free breaks. Lifting her head inattentively as a song she could recognise anywhere started up. Kicking her legs free from the quilt and blankets she heavily placed her hand on the clock radio, finally switching it off before resting her head in her hands. Letting a moment go by she stood, picking up a hair tie from the bedside table and quickly tying her hair back before turning to make the bed. When she was done she wiped her nose gently across the back of her hand. Smiling at the good job she had done she lightly sat on the edge, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath, pushing the tears trying to break through back. Opening them, she slowly pulled the band from her hair, shaking her head and running one hand through her hair as she placed the band on the table where she had fetched it from earlier. Her hand pausing by the folded pages that hadn't been there earlier. Closing her eyes again she picked them up between two fingers, before clutching them with both without opening her eyes she knew they were from Wyatt. Slowly unfolding the pages with her fingertips, flicking the pages back she opened her eyes. Slowly she began to scan the page, before looking back to the beginning.

Dear Bianca,

I know this is probably a long shot, but I have to write it anyway. I need you to know that if I could I would take it all back, but I can't I know that and now I have to live knowing I hurt the one person I trusted. The one person I cared for. The one person I loved without question or reason. I say that, yet what I did would without knowing who I truly am, my actions would negate, null and void, make superfluous what I have already written. And again I'm rambling as do my thoughts when I think of you. As do my thoughts when I am with you.

With all my being I long to reach out to you, but I pull back knowing I can't. I know that you don't want me near you, and I appreciate your need for space. But even so I find myself always thinking of you, the good times, the bad, the times that can't be described because they were neither. They just were.

I read that somewhere that love isn't always strong enough to hold two people together. That sometimes, love is so strong it drives two people apart.

Is it Bianca, is it? Or is it the weakness in one that perverts any and all chances that we had. That one being me. I love you, I know that I always will, but I know that you need me to leave you alone. I am only here to do as you will it. And as you told Chris to tell me, I will leave you alone, to give you the time you ask for. I just had to let you know that no matter what happens, no matter what I will always love you. That you will always have a piece of me, because without you I am incomplete. I don't know what else to say, yet I know I need to say more. I'll leave you with these words, and I can only pray that they hold the same meaning with you as they do with me.

"Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor, I was feeling kinda seasick, But the crowd called out for more, The room was humming harder, As the ceiling flew away, When we called out for another drink, The waiter brought a tray

And so it was that later, As the miller told his tale, That her face, at first just ghostly, Turned a whiter shade of pale, She said, 'there is no reason, And the truth is plain to see.' But I wandered through my playing cards, And would not let her be, One of sixteen vestal virgins, Who were leaving for the coast, And although my eyes were open, They might have just as well've been closed, She said, 'I'm home on shore leave,' Though in truth we were at sea, So took her by the looking glass, And forced her to agree, Saying, 'you must be the mermaid, Who took Neptune for a ride.' But she smiled at me so sadly, That my anger straightway died

If music be the food of love, Then laughter is its queen, And likewise if behind is in front, Then dirt in truth is clean, My mouth by then like cardboard, Seemed to slip straight through my head, So we crash-dived straightway quickly, And attacked the ocean bed."

Wyatt.

Brushing the tear off her cheek she gently placed the letter to one side. Standing slowly and walking to the bathroom. Turning the taps she watched as the water ran, the steam rising off of the hot water. Removing the t-shirt she had slept in and stepping out of her underwear she tested the water by gingerly holding her fingertips under the running water before thrusting her whole hand in. Then slowly she stood in the shower recess closing her eyes as the hot water ran over her body, Numb she stared out in front of her, slowly completing the routine of her morning shower. Drying and dressing before shuffling into the lounge room and curling up in the lounge chair. What he had done was unfair and still it touched her deep inside, to know that he was hurting and thinking of her as much as she was. Resting her head on the back of the lounge she closed her eyes, almost able to hear the song playing in the distance, Wyatt singing off key under his breath while he held her in his arms. Hugging her knees she shook her head and looked away. She had to get out of here, everything reminded her of Wyatt.

A/N: "A Whiter Shade of Pale" lyrics reproduced without permission. The lyrics written by Keith Reid of the band Procol Harum.

Also a very big thankyou to the one who urged me to write. I appreciate every insistence, blah, blah, blah. I think you know who you are, but if you don't, Julie you are a star. Haha, I get the last word. :p